


The Morning After

by Strength_in_pain



Series: In-between Time [2]
Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Boris Pavlikovsky - Freeform, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Xandra is wearing her Jersey, popchyk is a good boy, theo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22141219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strength_in_pain/pseuds/Strength_in_pain
Summary: Set directly after the events of The Broken Computer.Theo and Boris wake up together and try to figure out why Larry was in such as bad mood last night. Theo tries to avoid Xandra.
Relationships: Larry Decker/Xandra, Theodore Decker & Boris Pavlikovsky, Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky
Series: In-between Time [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1562089
Comments: 11
Kudos: 52





	The Morning After

Waking up on my stomach, I felt a weight on my back, and realized without opening my eyes, it was Boris. The memories of the following evening floated back like jellyfish, stinging me all over. 

I groaned and pushed Boris off, so I could sit up. Reaching towards the nightstand for my phone, the time read 6:45am.

“Oh fuck, it’s early.” I whined, because I knew I wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep. Not with the pain that was starting to claw down the back of my legs. I let out a whimper, unintentionally. It was like when I got sunburnt, the agonizing, scratchy pain that tinted my skin pink, the dull but constant pain that just wouldn’t go away. I felt sick from drinking so much last night, and my head was pounding. In summary, I felt like shit. 

“Potter?” Boris whispered, looking just as shitty as I was feeling. “You are whining like the dog. Are you okay?” 

I tried to kick him, but missed completely. Sighing, I laid my head back against his shoulder. “Do you want me to make you some tea?”

“Would be nice.” He said, which was his way of saying yes, but he didn’t want to force me if I didn’t feel like it. 

“I don’t mind.” I climbed out of bed. My legs were wobbly for a second, and I almost fell flat on my face, but I gripped the bedpost regaining my balance. 

Before I left my bedroom, I stopped in the bathroom and threw up. While my head was in the toilet, thoughts of Xandra being home dawned on me. She typically worked nightshifts and was home every morning. It was going to be hell if I had to speak to her. Not only would she probably be pissed at me for the whole laptop thing, but I was mad at her. She just stood there while my Dad - hell she practically told him to do it. If I could avoid her, I was going too. 

One last lurch of the stomach, and I grabbed a wad of toilet paper, wiped my lips, and tossed it in the waist basket which never gets emptied unless I empty it. Then I stood slowly and wondered downstairs. 

It was quiet, and I was just starting to think I was in the clear, when I reached the fourth step and my eyes were level with the kitchen. There stood Xandra in her Miami Dolphin’s Jersey, right next to the humming coffee machine. She looked over at me, and glared. 

“Theo, how many times do I have to tell you to close the door to the pool? I found another mosquito in my coffee cup this morning.” 

A brisk apology from me and a quick trip to the fridge seemed to deteriorate her anger. 

“You’ve got some nerve. If I were your mother -“

“You’re not.” The bark in my voice surprised even me. Xandra averted her eyes to the coffee machine. I started brewing Boris’s tea. The wait for the tea was excruciating. Neither of us said anything. But I could feel her eyes on me, squinting and staring as if she were trying to figure me out. For some reason - maybe it was the hangover - I felt the sudden urge to cry. Thankfully, the tea was done. As quickly as I could, I unhooked the entire pot of tea, grabbed the whole sugar jar and took it upstairs. We had some cups and spoons up there from our last meal. 

By the time I reached my room and locked the door - a habit I had recently started doing - I felt much better. The threat of tears evaporated and I was safe again with just Boris. 

“Wow, I know three sugars in my tea might seem like a lot, but you don’t need to be asshole about it.” He pointed to the entire container of sugar that I carried upstairs. 

“I thought I might like some too.” I said, forcing a smile. 

“Straight up sugar is not good for you, Potter. Very unhealthy. ” 

“I meant the tea, you dumbass.” I laughed, putting the tea on our nightstand. I had to knock some old pairs of underwear and socks out of the way to make room, but it fit. 

Boris carefully took his old red cup that was full of vodka last night and now poured the steaming hot liquid inside. 

“Tastes good.” He smiled up at me with his head tilted to the side. 

“Good.” I took a small amount myself, trying to convince my upset stomach to accept the liquid. 

“So what do you think your Dad is hiding?” 

“Sorry?” I turned to Boris bewildered. 

“He very much did not want you in his room. Why?”

“Oh. I dunno.” I looked at my blue plastic cup and wrinkled my nose before tilting my head back. The liquid burnt my throat. 

“Is he criminal?”

“No.” I waved Boris off, then a thought came to my mind. “Well -“

“Well? Well what?” Boris shot up straight, eager and attentive for drama. 

“Nothing - it’s just - he had a record from when he was younger. I don’t know what for.” 

“What is record?”

“A criminal record. You get them when you get caught doing something illegal.” I snorted, “the two of us should have a criminal record a mile long.” 

Boris grinned, his grayish teeth showing, “but we never get caught.” 

I nodded, taking another sip of tea, and realizing my stomach was starting to settle down. Is this why Boris liked tea? It’s good for a belly full of beer? 

“But it does not answer the question.” Boris

rolled over onto his stomach and looked at me through a mess of unruly black hair. 

“I don’t know, I didn’t see anything last night. Well, I saw sex toys.” I shuttered at the memory. Boris on the other hand seemed to be suppressing a laugh, or maybe drooling so I got up and jumped on the bed, bouncing him around. 

He laughed and laid on his back, next to me. We stared at the ceiling.

“I bet it was drugs.” Boris said. 

I wasn’t so sure. “Mmm?” 

“You don’t think so?”

“Nah. I mean. I’ve seen the drugs before, out in the kitchen cabinet.”

“Ah, is true.” Boris thought carefully, putting his finger under his chin. “Maybe it is secret about you?”

“A secret about me?”

“Yes maybe it is something of yours he’s stolen.” 

“If anything was stolen it would have been my mother’s stuff.” 

“Maybe secret identity?”

“No.”

“Secret stack of cash?”

“Look Boris, I don’t know what it is, but if anything, I bet it’s something to do with Mr. Silver.”

“The man with the cowboy boots?” 

“Yeah.”

“What about him?”

“I don’t know, but my Dad’s always acting weird whenever I bring him up. Or sometimes he comes home in a really bad mood and I hear him talking on the phone to Mr. silver.”

“What are they talking about?”

“Just Baccarat.” 

Boris blinked at me. 

“It’s a card game. My Dad gambles with it.”

“Ah! Maybe he is hiding chips in his bedroom.”

“Maybe.” I said, losing interest in the topic. Whatever it was, the thought of me finding it pissed my Dad off. 

“We’ll never know, because I’m not going back in there ever again.”

Boris whined. “But I want to find out what he is hiding.” 

“No. Never again. Got it?”

He nodded. “If you say so, Potter.” 

I heard a whining noise from my doorway, and I knew Popper was trying to get inside my room. 

I opened the door and picked him up, kidding his fuzzy white head. “Sorry, Popper, but you gotta go outside today. I can’t risk Xandra being any more mad at me.” 

“Ah, don’t punish the little dog.”

“Boris, you know she’ll kill me if she sees him inside.” 

Boris sighed and looked at his backpack. “We need to go soon if we are going at all.”

“I want to go. Anywhere is better than here right now.”

“Okay.” Boris agreed, getting out of bed with just his boxers on, he started searching under the pairs of dirty clothes on the floor for something good to wear. 

I wrinkled my nose at the smell in my bedroom: stale cigarettes, spilled beer, vomit, and dirty clothes. It was Godawful. 

“I need to clean this shit.” 

“Ah, yes. You do. I can help. After school?”

“Yeah, perfect.” I said, leaning against the doorframe to readjust Popper in my arms. He smelled a mix of wet dog with chlorine chemicals, and could use a good old-fashioned bath. 

My headache was still pounding in the back of my head as I took Popper outside and chained him to his igloo dog house. It was so hot outside, I felt like a monster leaving him there, especially when he tried to follow me back inside, only to realize he couldn’t. 

“I’m sorry. As soon as I come home, I‘ll take you for a walk. I promise.” Once inside, I grabbed a bowl from the top shelf and put it under the faucet. 

As I waited for the bowl to fill with water, Xandra’s voice floated in from the other room. She must have been on her cell-phone talking to one of her coworkers, something she does often. 

There was a loud growl from the other room, and then a screeching shrill. “Well that’s great! But you don’t have a kid who can ruin yours!”

I furrowed my eyebrows together, confused as to what Xandra was shouting about, but knowing it must be something about me. 

“Yes! Last night. The whole fucking thing was snapped in half. You have no idea how annoying it is to have a little brat get into your stuff and then break it. Better believe I yelled at him. Thank God for Larry. Oh yeah, he really stepped up. Beat the kid’s ass. Yeah, but the whole situation was really fucked-up, I mean, my poor laptop. I had that thing for a good four years. Just past warranty, you know? Well I’m using the social security check to pay for the damages. If that kid needs new books or clothes he can fucking forget it because every cent is going towards that laptop.”

At this point the bowl of water was overflowing. I quickly shut off the faucet and rushed outside to give it to Popper. It didn’t take long for Boris and I to get out school supplies and walk to the bus stop.

“She said all that?”

I nodded, still bitter and angry. My jaw was glued shut by my rage. I didn’t feel like talking and instead I focused on kicking the white pebbles that sat under the bench while we waited for the bus. 

“Hey look on the bright side, Potter. You never even knew you were getting checks from the social services.” 

I glared at Boris, but his quirk of the eyebrows made me laugh. “I know. You’re right. It doesn’t matter.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys! The Goldfinch makes me happy. I am very sad most of the time. But you and the Goldfinch cheer me up. 
> 
> So if you haven’t already, check out my story The Broken Computer , the 1st story in this series because it is the story directly before this one. :)


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